Confrontations
by Mesua Ferrea
Summary: Devil Survivor 2. His sanity is deteriorating and she seems to be enjoying this far too much. Set right after Monochrome.


Characters: Yamato, and Miyako Hotsuin

Warnings: Possessiveness and all that dark stuff. Hints of Yanmato

Disclaimers: I don't own Devil Survivor 2

Comments and criticisms would be appreciated.

* * *

The steel door creaks in protest as it is closed, and the sounds echo in the hallway secluded from the rest of the building.

He is the only one in this hall. It wasn't supposed to be that way. Everything was going wrong but... it'll be fixed. That is his promise.

His steps are unbearably loud.

"Your mind is playing tricks on you, I fear."

The voice, devoid of feeling, speaks.

"Have you become so delusional that you'll believe anything that goes through your head? There's no way would that person join you, not after all you've done to him."

Yamato brings his hand to his temples to rub them, clenching his eyes shut. Throwing his head back, he laughs.

"You are truly amusing! It isn't in your place to say a thing."

Steps, quick and soft, close the distance and the being stops behind Yamato; arms, clothed in obsidian and garnished with gold trimming, encircle his body.

A body, so similar to his, offers warmth. It isn't comforting but it is the only way they show affection to each other, mimicking actions read upon in books.

She rests her face near the base of his neck, soft lips brushing his defined spine.

Miyako murmurs into the skin, "Oh but it is, my brother. That boy is mine," and moves her face to the side and nuzzles the spot.

She feels him trembling but doesn't act upon it.

Yamato's fists clench, for a brief moment, and slowly pries the arms off of him. It isn't playful but he must be gentle for such a farce.

She backs off, and he simply turns to face his beloved sister,and he sees himself reflected in those dull silver orbs. He tenderly places his hands on her shoulders and slowly moves down, softly holding her at the elbows. Without hesitation, he slams her into the wall beside them.

Miyako does not cry at the sudden sensation but Yamato knew, oh he knew, how much it hurt. Those same cold eyes could not focus and the pain from her spine directly hitting a pillar almost made her mewl in pain. It was almost satisfactory had it not been his face he saw in the person before him. She was his reflection and the thought of looking at her is absolutely grotesque.

He engulfs her in a warm embrace and she hisses.

He coils around her further and switches to be behind her, and forces her knees to buckle. He catches her of course but it is rough and he doesn't care. The stance is far too awkward. He can barely keep her at bay.

She chuckles and he slides an arm around her waist. The free hand snatches her hands and holds them down.

"It seems to me that you can't bear the thought of seeing me, my precious brother. Is it my face?"

She feels his heartbeat and takes it as confirmation.

"Oh? It is now, isn't it? Are you too afraid to see what lovely emotion you're making? I bet you are." The tone is sickly sweet.

Yamato can only wonder if this voice sounds familiar.

She readjusts the position of her head, tuft swiftly sliding against the other's face.

"I had heard the oddest rumour the other day. Mind if I tell?" the choice is obvious and she will tell regardless of his answer; Yamato chooses not to waste words to reply.

"I heard you smashed all the mirrors in your room. It would have been absolutely hilarious if you screamed Bloody Mary while doing so."

His grip tightens.

"You don't like that? Well I'm sure there are other things you won't like either."

Yamato laughs, mouth centimetres from her ear and harshly whispers, "You're trying too hard. You should stop."

"Stop? Why ever should I do that?"

"It seems like my decisions have you on end. You're unsure of how I will react next. It seems you need to brush up on your skill, Miyako."

Her eyes flicker. Yamato has not said her name for months and acknowledged her as only a futile attempt to be his carbon-copy. The only one person to truly acknowledge her worth was-

The thought is cut short. Her mask continues to smile.

"Brush up? There's nothing to change. I have perfected my role."

"Perfected? Do you truly believe that? I never expected you to be that naive."

The arm against her waist moves up- stomach to chest; he scoffs then continues to shift his hand up.

He reaches her sternum. His hand spreads on her neck and lightly presses upon it.

"I could crush your windpipe. I only need to exert more pressure."

"You wouldn't dare. You're still afraid of the ghosts that haunt you."

The desire to strangle out every breath of air is tempting.

He knows from experience that this feeling is uncomfortable and if he presses further, he could choke her but refuses. Yamato doesn't know whether it is out of sympathy or love. He hopes to never find out.

Silence penetrates the hallways and one of the mirrored images speaks.

"You can't kill me."

"And if I said I could?"

"You wouldn't. It isn't in your nature."

"Isn't in my nature?"

"I am you."

Yamato pauses before he speaks.

"No, you can only bitterly try to be me."

Realisation strikes hard and Miyako knows she has kept this up for far too long. Her mind grows weary at this fight. She cannot continue at this rate.

"I-... You're right. I'll never be you but perhaps... that is a good thing."

Yamato's grip erratically becomes tighter and she gasps.

"You-! How dare you? I always wondered whose stray scent lingered in that room and to figure it was yours. Only _he_ would make you talk like this."

A strangled laugh barely parts from Miyako's mouth.

"Oh? Could it be that you're smitten with the poor boy?"

He receives no reply and lets her go, towering above the fallen figure. He bends down and snatches her tie, noses barely touch.

"He is mine and you will never have him."

Miyako's eyes become fierce, reminiscent to the one's that boy had months ago.

"He'll be mine if you die and I would treat him far better than you."

The tie falls limply from his hand and he stumbles backwards, grin revealing his canines washed in crimson.

Miyako is sure she has awakened the beast but she can't look away, not when she finally has something to claim her own.

Yamato begins to tremble and illuminates, gold rays flood the hallway.

His eyes, full of fury, look similar to the Dragon as his pupils become slits and he snarls, "Get out of my presence."

Before she can even voice her thoughts, his growl engulfs the area.

"Now, be gone! My shadow has no place here!"

A silhouette is barely visible and Miyako knows that he will manifest its true form at any time.

She slowly walks away and when she is no longer in sight, the air becomes free of tensions.

Even though it is distant and sounds like a mere whisper, Yamato hears.

"You'll bring yourself to ruin at this rate. You have tried too hard to destroy fate's design."

He does not care for that now.

Yamato is a monster.

He'll bring down anyone into the abyss if it's for love.


End file.
